Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Pakistan and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Shuggie Otis to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Lou Reed & John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Black Pus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bauhaus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalann record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
Blake Baxter,
Max Romeo,
Hoover,
Deakin,
Rekid,
Minny Pops,
Cluster,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Detroit Cobras,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Fugs,
The Pretty Things,
Henry Cow,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Liliput,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Vogues,
Scott Walker,
H. Thieme,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Fad Gadget,
Lucky Dragons,
Eddi Front,
The Trojans,
Rod Modell,
KRS-One,
Marmalade,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Raincoats,
Janne Schatter,
Lyres,
The Smiths,
Bootsy Collins,
Joe Finger,
Banda Bassotti,
Agent Orange,
Lebanon Hanover,
Adolescents,
Bobby Womack,
Arthur Verocai,
Jimmy McGriff,
Neu!,
Mission of Burma,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Marine Girls,
Letta Mbulu,
Dennis Brown,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Amazonics,
Second Layer,
X-102,
Reagan Youth,
Pussy Galore,
Angry Samoans,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sixth Finger,
The American Breed,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gichy Dan,
Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.